


No one can say what we get to be

by Felixseo (kafkao)



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Fluff, ITS JUST DISGUSTING FLUFF, Kisses, M/M, Strangers to Lovers, bring ur dentist, coffee shop AU, the whole team, ur hygienist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-24
Updated: 2018-10-24
Packaged: 2019-08-06 16:41:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16391348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kafkao/pseuds/Felixseo
Summary: The unfamiliar face steps up to the cluttered counter and it’s difficult to see his actual face- half covered by a mask, as well as a cap pulled low over his forehead, but Minho can spot glittery eyes. He quickly averts his own.“Welcome to Little Desserts- what can I get you?”orMinho works the night shift at a dessert shop, and Jisung likes sugar (and cute boys)





	No one can say what we get to be

**Author's Note:**

> ohmygOD this is my third attempt at writing something decent for minho's birthday and i think I'm actually satisfied. Finally. anyw Happy Birthday to our dancing gem Minho you drive us crazy but we love you :DD 
> 
> title taken from Rewrite The Stars by Zendaya and Zac Efron off the greatest showman soundtrack bc that soundtrack wrote this fic

Business is slow, a single customer sitting in the corner, laptop on the round, rickety table, though he looks like he’s been dozing for the last fifteen minutes now. A Niall Horan song plays on the speakers, but it’s soft, and Minho has to strain his ears to hear exactly which one it is.

The raven-haired boy sighs, tapping a beat out onto the empty counter. There are milkshake cups stacked to one side, striped straws scattered over the top from when Changbin ran out to hug his boyfriend at the end of his shift and Minho had stubbornly refused to clean them up. The dessert shop is dead anyway- he doubts anyone will care about the spilt straws.

Minho jumps when the song switches to something loud and upbeat, his eyes automatically gluing to the boy in the corner, still slumped over his beat up laptop- undisturbed and peaceful. Minho wishes he was in a similar position. Or maybe he doesn’t. The kid comes in here often, orders a waffle and a coffee, like the sugar and caffeine rush will keep him awake, and never works for more than an hour before he dozes off. It’s entertaining to watch- on some days Minho will clear up around the boy and close his laptop down for him, but today he fears disturbing him as he’s literally sleeping _on top of_ it. He sighs. Wonders what the boy studies that makes him so tired, but requires him to stay awake for so long.

The song is coming to an end when the front door jingles, an unfamiliar face stepping inside. Unfamiliar, because Minho knows most of their two am customers. There’s the blonde-haired boy who sleeps on his laptop, then there’s the old man who lives across the street and brings his grumpy grandson for dessert every second week when he stays over. He insists on dessert at 2am to help with his insomnia. The third, and last, common customer is Hyunjin- an art student, and more recently, Changbin’s boyfriend. He would take longer visits before he started dating Changbin, now he just picks up his boyfriend and leaves- which Minho is only slightly salty about, because it’s obvious to him now that Hyunjin used to really only visit at two am to see the cute barrister (Changbin.)

The unfamiliar face steps up to the cluttered counter and it’s difficult to see his _actual_ face- half covered by a mask, as well as a cap pulled low over his forehead, but Minho can spot glittery eyes. He quickly averts his own.

“Welcome to Little Desserts- what can I get you?”

“Do you do milkshakes?” The boy’s voice is soft, almost tired. Minho appreciates the sweetness at this ridiculous hour- he can’t take loud customers. He moves out of the way so the boy can read the fading menu set up on wall above him.

“We do,” Minho confirms, “The prices…”

The boys nods, removing his cap to run a hand through his hair as he reads the board and- wow, Minho is suddenly in awe, because whilst this boy is dressed in all black, adorned even with a black hat and face mask, his hair is _bright orange._ Bright orange streaked with blonde, and whilst it _should_ look ridiculous, Minho can’t help but think he pulls it off quite well.

“I’ll have an Oreo milkshake. Please.”

Minho is suddenly alert, attention drawn back to the boy’s voice (and not his beautiful hair _goddamnit Lee Minho)_

“Sure,” Minho smiles easily, reaching for a cup, “That’ll be ₩5000.” The boy hands over a crisp note, and Minho punches it into the till, “Great. Take a seat; I’ll make your order.”

“Thank you.”

The boy doesn’t take a seat like Minho suggests, rather leans against the counter, pulling his phone out of his pocket and frowning at something before he unlocks it. Minho moves to make the customer’s drink- taking his sweet time in basic tasks like pouring milk and blending it with crushed Oreos. He knows for a fact that if his demon manager was here, she’d be yelling at him to get a move on and just serve the kid his drink already- but, his manager has left him in charge of lockup duty, and he’s pretty sure his co-worker, Seungmin, is snoozing in the back when he was supposed to be cleaning up the tables, so, in theory, he’s free to do what he wants. Unless his customer is in a hurry, but who would be in a hurry for a milkshake at two in the morning?

“Would you like cream?” Minho asks the boy, knocking him out of his reverie.

The boy startles,

“Sorry?”

“Whipped cream.” Minho repeats, trying his hardest to bite back a smile. The boy looks cute when he’s flustered- all pink cheeks and eyes more glittery than usual, “On your milkshake.”

“O- oh, yeah sure, please,” The boy responds sheepishly.

Minho grins, grabbing the can from the mini fridge under the counter and squirting a pretty little pattern on top of the milkshake.

He slides the drink across the counter once he’s snapped the lid on,

“One Oreo milkshake,” He says softly. The customer looks at him quizzically, and Minho nods towards the still sleeping boy in the corner of the shop, now starting to stir a little. The customer smiles,

“Chan hyung never gets enough rest.”

Minho’s jaw drops a little in surprise,

“You know him?”

The boy nods bashfully, averting his gaze from the sleeping boy (Chan, apparently) and back to the drink in front of him,

“Yeah, we go to the same uni, he’s a music major,” He pauses, “He works too hard,”

Minho nods, endeared by the fond look the customer is directing at the sleeping boy in the corner.

“Are you… also a music major?” Minho asks, somewhat hesitantly. The boy laughs brightly, pretty eyes crinkling in the corners as he does so, which makes Minho want to grab him by the chin and pull his mask down so he can _see_ that smile, but also makes Minho say a silent prayer _for_ the mask, because he isn’t sure what he’d do if he had the full vision along with the beautiful sound that is the customer’s laugh.

“No,” The boy says, crinkles still resting next to his eyes, creasing them up so they look almost closed, “I help him out sometimes, but I’m a dance major.”

Minho whistles lowly,

“Impressive.”

The boy flushes, pulling his mask down to shyly take the first sip of his milkshake,

“Not really,” He murmurs around the straw, “It’s whatever,”

Minho wants to argue, but instead opts to stay quiet, not wanting to pull the boy into reticence.

“How did you and Chan hyung meet?” The boy asks after a short silence.

“Oh- we didn’t- really- he just naps in here a lot. And I work the post-midnight shift so, we’re fairly acquainted,”

The boy nods, moving his mouth away from the straw to speak,

“I knew he wasn’t sleeping at home like he said he was…”

Minho bites his lip, scared he’s gotten someone into trouble, but the boy only smiles a little, shaking his head,

“It’s okay; I knew he was lying to me… I’ll just have to tell Woojin hyung.”

Minho’s eyes widen a little,

 _“Kim_ Woojin?”

The customer’s eyes narrow a little,

“Yes- do you… know him?”

“He’s my roommate.” Minho answers, a little dazed. The boy grins,

“He’s Chan’s boyfriend.”

“I thought Woojin’s boyfriend was called… Chris,”

The boy grins, shaking his head,

“No, that’s his English name- though he still uses it sometimes, and Woojin’s particularly fond of it.” He shudders, “Can’t imagine why anyone would be fond of their _English_ name.”

Minho grins,

“You have one?”

“Yeah,” The boy flushes once more, opens his mouth like he’s going to say it, but instead opts to take another sip of his drink. Minho starts to feel a little braver,

“Tell me,”

“You’ll laugh.”

_“Tell me.”_

“Peter! Peter Han, like Peter Pan but. Han.”

Minho giggles, he can’t help it- really, the way the boy burst out with information he obviously didn’t want to spread, and is now blushing like mad- it’s adorable, really.

“Cute.” He laughs, smiling in triumph when the boy only blushes harder.

 _“Please,_ my friends made it as a joke but then I went to study abroad and it became a serious thing. I hate it.”

“Then do you hate your real name just as much?”

The boy shakes his head, and though Minho can’t see it, he _knows_ there’s a small smile spreading across the others lips,

“No,” He pauses, eyes no longer glittering with interest but rather with mischief.

Minho rolls his eyes,

“What is it?”

“I don’t know… should I tell you? You got my English name so easily… and now you’ll get my Korean name that easily too?”

The dark-haired boy only laughs, pushing away from the till and instead rounding the counter,

“Okay well I have tables to clean, so if you’re not willing to share any more with me-”

The customer’s eyes widen, and he suddenly grips at Minho’s arm, almost forcefully making him stay,

“Please don’t go,” He says. Then, in a stronger voice, “It’s Jisung.”

Minho smiles wide; sticking his hand out once the other releases his sleeve,

“Lee Minho.”

Jisung’s hand is soft and a lot bigger than Minho’s- in fact it envelopes all his fingers, but this is an embarrassing fact, so Minho struggles with himself to not think about it.

“Are you- do I call you hyung?”

“Is it that obvious?” Minho frowns, but he’s laughing so Jisung laughs along.

“A little. I think I see a few white hairs on the left there.”

Minho sticks his tongue out, pulling a face at the younger,

“Very funny.”

“I try.” Jisung grins. He pauses for a second, like he’s contemplating something, before he pushes his drink towards Minho, “This is really good. Do you- do you want some?”

Minho’s eyes widen,

“No! I mean- it’s okay, you paid for it- it’s yours.”

Jisung shrugs, wrapping his lips around the straw once more and taking a huge sip. Minho watches in fascination, before resting his elbows on the counter and climbing onto one of the stools. He smiles brightly.

“Tell me why you’re at a dessert shop at two in the morning.”

The younger hesitates for a minute before sighing,

“Couldn’t sleep.” A pause. “I don’t like being alone at this time, and my roommate is out for the night.” Jisung pauses once more, a look of sincerity taking over his features, and Minho has to try and mask his surprise. He’s only been acquainted with the younger boy for the better half of the last hour or so, but he’s come to grow fond of the small habits he has- like the way his eyes glitter when he smiles, and the way he attempts to talk around his straw while it’s sitting comfortably in his mouth. But he hasn’t seen this look on the other yet- a look of seriousness and possibly- gratitude?

Jisung confirms his suspicions.

“Thanks for letting me talk about dumb shit for the last hour.”

Minho nods, frozen a little. He wants to tell him there’s no need to thank him, this is the best shift he’s ever taken whilst he’s been working these hours for the last six months, wants to thank _him_ instead, for keeping him company, but his tongue lodges against the roof of his mouth and words stick in his throat.

Jisung seems to have read something in the elder’s expression, because he silently edges closer, and Minho finds himself rooted to the spot. They stay like that for a while- just looking at one another, taking each other in. Jisung counts the beauty spots freckled over Minho’s cheeks, and Minho thinks he could count every eyelash that Jisung possesses.

It’s beautiful really, the way their hour long conversation has turned into the most comfortable silence.

Just as Jisung tugs his mask all the way down under his chin, there’s a cough from behind them both, and they startle- moving away quickly.

In the corner, Chan stretches lazily.

“I’m sorry to disturb you,” He says, voice scratchy, eyes half closed, “But it’s one thing to watch you flirt. It’s just plain _weird_ to watch you make out.”

“We weren’t-”

“We never-”

Both Minho and Jisung start at the same time, then flush upon the realisation that they indeed _were_ and _were going to._

Chan waves them off, stands up and picks up his messenger bag along with his laptop. He has the imprint of his keyboard on his left cheek.

“I’m going home. I don’t care what you do.”

And with that he walks past them both, sending Jisung a sly smirk as he does so.

Jisung blushes a very dark, very deep red.

“Were you going to kiss me?” Minho asks, once the door has closed behind Chan. The younger shrugs, tapping his feet against the stool. Minho notices the way his shoes don’t fully reach the floor, and adds it to his mental list of _adorable things about the orange-haired kid._

“Maybe,” Jisung says, “If you want.”

Minho does his best to act equally nonchalant.

“Why not.”

Jisung laughs, bright and happy, before leaning forward and planting the softest of kisses against Minho’s mouth. Before he can pull back, Minho is pulling him in again, the kiss this time being deeper, more unspoken words buried inside it. Jisung’s lips are soft and he tastes like the sweetness of a milkshake, as well as the bitterness of two am. It’s quite perfect.

When they pull back, it’s impossible to tell whose smile is wider.

“That was nice.” Jisung quips. Minho laughs,

“Do you want to do it again?”

Jisung nods, eager, but Minho is soon too distracted by his lips to make fun of him like he wishes to.

And if they spend the remainder of Minho’s shift, swapping secrets and kisses, then nobody’s around to find out anyway (aside from a dazed Seungmin in the back, finally awake from his slumber, who takes one look at the scene, and goes straight back to the couch- and back to sleep.)

**Author's Note:**

> feedback is always appreciated :)
> 
> find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/feiixseo)


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